


god only knows where i'd be without you

by redvineshark



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, if you interpret this as ship i'll break your kneecaps, klaus and five bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 00:16:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18173330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvineshark/pseuds/redvineshark
Summary: Klaus and Five are more similar than meets the eye. They realize that. It's time they caught up, really, make up for lost time. They were never close as kids.(NOT SHIP.)





	1. Chapter 1

Five and Klaus locked eyes across the room when either of them got strange looks from their siblings. They had never been close as children, but suddenly they found themselves relating to each other, looking out for the other if need be, though often done with subtlety and quiet thanks. Klaus, who danced around the kitchen through giggles and flirted with empty space he affectionately called Davey, and Five, who draped his arms around a mannequin and kissed her cheek as he poured cream into a cup of coffee she couldn’t drink. Luther stares apprehensively at the scene. Klaus flashes a knowing grin at his younger (older?) brother.   
  
Sometimes, on especially bad nights, Five would tentatively knock on Klaus’ doorframe, breathing too ragged and grip on Dolores just this side of too tight. Klaus could hear his muffled cries down the hall, and he of all people knew just how terrible a nightmare, a flashback, could be. So wordlessly, he lifts his blanket.

One of their siblings, usually Diego come looking for Klaus, would find Five curled up at the foot of the bed like a cat, arms wrapped desperately around Dolores. Klaus would be sprawled out like a starfish, legs just barely staying out of Five’s way, and leaning toward someone they couldn’t see. Most of the time they would leave them there to rest, occasionally Vanya would make her way upstairs with a cup of coffee and gently shake Five awake, smile at him fondly and welcome him downstairs, suggest through a laugh that he leave the lovebirds to get their beauty sleep. Five would grumble but comply, sip at the coffee Vanya had brought him and rest his face against Dolores’ head as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

And sometimes, Five would find Klaus with his legs swinging out of the windowsill, far too close to the edge for his liking. Cigarette in hand, the smoke would curl through the air, and Five would cough and gripe about it as he settles into the chair seated next to the window. Klaus’ fingers toy with the dog tags hung around his neck near constantly, and he smiles at the open air like it’s a sight to behold. Five knows that somewhere, Dave is there, looking at Klaus the same way. He wonders if he and Dolores look like that. He hopes not. They can’t be  _ that  _ bad.

_ You are, darling.  _ Dolores remarks with a smile, and Five hushes her with a chuckle as he gently rests his hand next to his brother.

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, wonderful! I’m really in the prime of my life, you know, couldn’t be any better.” Klaus drawls. He’s not high, Five can tell that much, and he’s thankful for it. “Not being able to be touched by the person you love is just  _ fantastic.”  _

Five glances at Dolores. Sighs. “Is he here? Right now?”

“Not anymore.” The smoke pours out of his mouth. “I needed some time alone.”   
  
“Do you want me to leave?”   
  
“...No. I don’t think so.” Klaus sighs another huff of smoke out, and his bare feet knock against the wall as they swing back. He doesn’t react to the pain. “Not yet, anyway.”

Five nods solemnly and gestures for Klaus to clamber back through the window, to face him. Klaus does just that, with a dramatic sigh as he stifles his cigarette into the ashtray on his nightstand. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Five mutters. He sets Dolores next to the bed and sits on the end of it. The invitation is clear, so Klaus flops back next to him, staring at the ceiling.

“Thanks.” 

They sit there, for a while, in silence. Just a presence there, in case something went wrong, someone who wouldn’t make a big deal of it, was enough for Klaus. And Five was just that. He was a ghost of a smile, and a lump at the end of his bed, and someone who understood, and his brother. Home. Safe. That was enough. More than enough. He had spent years waiting, knowing one day he’d see Five’s ghost among the others, and he would know there was no hope of his brother coming back. But he didn’t. And sure, maybe he complains a little in the early morning and makes snide comments, but he’s Five.    
  
He’s fifty eight, Five won’t let him forget that. But he’s his little brother. Always. Even if he gets wasted and throws up on Klaus’ floor, and makes out with a mannequin (He had walked in. It was disturbing. He pretended he didn’t see anything.) and shoves him away when he ruffles his hair. Because Klaus has someone to protect again, and this time, nothing is going to happen to him.    
  
Five looks at his siblings. He looks at Dolores. He’d never admit it, but he’s scared. Terrified. Because the apocalypse isn’t a concern anymore, but they’re the Hargreeves. Something is always going to be around the corner. But his family is finally getting better. And now...now Five has something to lose.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was initially meant to be a one shot, but it was well received and i had another idea so. here we are.  
> aka: in which klaus finds something interesting in the dumpster.

Forty-five years causes some wear and tear. That much was obvious, but she was beautiful. Scuffed-up, water damaged, bullet grazed, darling Dolores. Which is why it tears him apart to let her go. He doesn’t cry, the tears spare him his dignity until he reaches home, or at least not facing her. He was strong, he was meant to protect her, she can’t ever see him like that. He ignores that she has, so many times. He says his goodbyes, tries his hardest not to reach out and touch her one last time. He knows if he does he won’t let go. “She likes sequins.”

 

Yes, forty-five years causes some wear and tear. That much was obvious, and the department store staff know it too. The marks, caked dirt, missing arm, and lack of a lower half are concerning, considering a young boy had just dropped it off. The faults go on and on. Either way, it’s much easier to throw the thing out than waste time on repairs, and they have plenty of mannequins to spare in storage. So that’s what they do. It’s tossed carelessly into the dumpster out back, with the rest of the trash.

 

It’s not long after that Klaus comes round to rummage through the thing for decent clothes. He was a fashionable man on a budget, and he was more than alright with a few holes in his next outfit, thank you very much. He yanks a trashbag out of the way upon seeing a blouse peeking out, and instead comes face to face with a mannequin that looks eerily familiar, and  _ that’s  _ why he recognized that blouse! The painted on eyes seem to plead with him, and he leans over to pick her up. “Dolores! Now what are you doing here? Getting into trouble?” His voice is coy and teasing as he speaks to the plastic in his arms. Not the weirdest thing he’s done, admittedly. He taps his chin thoughtfully. “Well, why don’t you help me look? You seem good with fashion.”

 

Klaus returns with an armful of clothes, and an armful of Dolores. He drops his newly acquired clothes on the ground (Dave looks at them disdainfully, because  _ really Klaus, at least wash them…)  _ and makes his way upstairs. The apocalypse had been narrowly avoided after Allison had managed to calm Vanya down. The family is a mess, but they’re working towards something better. They’re going to be closer than ever, Klaus has decided. Or at least, he’s going to try his damn hardest. And that’s why he approaches Five’s room. He had holed himself in his small room for almost a week, mostly drinking, partially thought. Entirely grief. Grieving the apocalypse that hadn’t happened, his only goal for years, his addiction. Grieving Dolores. Klaus glances down at her as he raises his hand and knocks gently on the door.

 

“Oh brother dearest…” He calls just loud enough for Five to hear him. He hears rustling and incoherent muttering on the other side of the door.

 

“Fuck off.” Is the reply he’s met with, and he sighs.

 

“But I have someone here to see you…” He sets Dolores on the ground and pats her head.

 

“They can fuck off too.” 

 

“Christ on a cracker, you kiss Mom with that mouth?”

 

There’s stomping and a crash of glass hitting hardwood floor, a grumbled  _ dammit,  _ and the door is thrown open. He’s met with a sneer. His brother’s uniform is crumpled, and his hair is a mess. He’s clearly been drinking. “What do you want?”

 

“Fine. Come on, Dolores, we aren’t wanted here.” Klaus throws his hand over his face in a mournful swoon, flashing the ‘goodbye’ inked on it. Before he can even pick her up Five’s eyes are widening as he looks down and drops to his knees. 

 

“Dolores?” His shoulders sag as he brushes her face softly, with a tenderness that always manages to take Klaus by surprise. “Oh, what have they done to you…”

 

“Five-”   
  
“They...They didn’t even give her any sequins…” He mumbles through a hiccup. Klaus can see his hands start to shake. He doesn’t comment. Rather, he crouches to meet his brother’s eyes as he pats him on the shoulder. His hand is brushed off. 

 

“Might want to clean the lady up, she was in the dumpst-”

 

“She was  _ where?” _

 

Klaus still doesn’t understand, not fully, but he understands that Five needs Dolores like a child needs a teddy bear. He doesn’t think children treat their teddy bears like their spouse of over thirty years, but then again, he doesn’t have a frame of reference. So if Five wants to delicately kiss his teddy bear equivalent, that’s not his business. He talks to Allison an hour later, comes prancing into her room and thumbing through her closet. Her still bandaged throat holds no objections as she flips through her magazine. 

 

“Hey, you got anything with sequins…?”


End file.
